


A Different Kind of Takeaway

by Ipwarn



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 05:04:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5653426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ipwarn/pseuds/Ipwarn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine runs into a dark alley to save a damsel in distress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Kind of Takeaway

“Help me! Please someone help me!”

Blaine heard the call as he was walking down the dark, deserted street. He paused, half hoping he’d imagined the woman’s voice but nope, there it was again, followed by a crash. It took Blaine all of three seconds to decide to help. However even as he moved to the mouth of the alleyway he couldn’t help but remember a story he’d read in the paper a few months ago of a guy who’d tried to save someone from a robber on the street and had died for his efforts. But still, this was the right thing to do.

Running forward, Blaine bolstered his limited courage by imagining a cape flapping loosely behind him, a mask clinging to his brow. I am Nightbird! he thought, unconsciously straightening his spine and pushing out his chest as he ran. God I hope I don’t get shanked.

“Help me! I’m in distress! Why won’t someone please help me?”

That’s a weird word to use, Blaine thought, his eyes scanning the path up ahead. Who actually said they were in distress when they were in distress?

“Be gone, you beast! I shall not surrender my possessions to you, even under threat of death!”

What on earth?

A bloodcurdling scream followed her strange proclamation, however, and Blaine sped up. The poor, hysterical woman must have been hurt badly to produce that kind of sound.

There! Against the left wall of the alley crouched a small quivering shape, presumably the woman, and looming over her was someone else. The alley was too dark to see much detail but from what Blaine could make out, her attacker was wearing a top hat and a long black coat.

No seriously – what on earth?

The woman spotted Blaine, and cried out to him, “Kind, sir! Please help me!”

The man standing over let out a hissing sound that might have contained words but Blaine couldn’t make them out. The problem was that now he was there he had no idea what to do. In his Nightbird fantasies he had always just gracefully swept in, right hooked the bad guy and saved the half naked Adam Levine, scooping him into his arms and then taking him straight to his concert at the nearest venue, where Blaine would’ve been given backstage access, an invitation to join the band whenever he liked, and a lifetime supply of cronuts. That was how this was supposed to go! Not him standing awkwardly off to the side as a woman cowered in fear.

Quick, he thought, say something! “Hey!” said Blaine, flinching at his less than forceful tone. “Back away from the lady!” Oh god, I sound like I’m in a bad western.

The dark shape turned letting out a sharp laugh. Great, her attacker agreed.

“Or what?” 

“I’m sorry?” Crap! Don’t be polite to the mugger!

“What are you going to do to me if I don’t “back away from the lady”?” The top hat turned, and although the face was still mostly hidden in shadow, Blaine could still see the glinting of his eyes. “You don’t even have your phone out.”

Blaine was confused. “To film you?” This was hardly the moment to make a vine.

“No, you moron. To call the police.”

Double crap. But it would look ridiculous if he reached for his phone now. “I left it at home,” Blaine improvised. He could hear the defensiveness in his voice. This was not going how was supposed to. In the back of his head he heard Sam’s voice, “Bring the justice, man! Think: what would batman do?”

Right, Batman. “I told you to leave her alone!”

Eyebrows rose over the glinty, shadowy eyes. “Why did your voice get deeper just now?”

“I will fight you!” Blaine said, ignoring the comment and stepping forward with his fists raised. Threatening people was new for him but, thanks to his years of boxing, he had every confidence in his ability to strike quickly and with force. 

“Oh my hero!” swooned the woman. When had she stood up? And who actually swoons? 

The top hat turned again and he snapped, “Knock it off!” to the woman. 

“Don’t talk to her like that!” He slowly started moving to the side in an effort to edge himself between the woman and her attacker. “It’s ok, miss. I’ll get you out of here.”

“Oh honey,” the man said, stepping closer just as Blaine reached the woman. The movement caused his face to be illuminated by a stray beam of moonlight. Damn. He was actually really pretty – definitely vine worthy. “You are so out of your league.” His tone was condescending. And his eyes…His eyes were magnificent. Freeze, those eyes said, the message clear and undisputable. So that’s just what Blaine did. 

He heard the sound of the woman moving behind him, and a second later she stepped into his view, smoothing down her skirt and brushing off some of the dirt she had collected from leaning against the wall. She didn’t look scared in the least.

“See, I told you this would work! Why would you ever doubt me?”

“Maybe because that was honestly some of your worst acting to date! And that is saying something. Remember when you put on that One-Woman play of Pride and Prejudice? Your Mr Darcy was an insult to Colin Firth’s memory.“

The woman let out an affronted squeak and slapped her hand to her chest. “How dare you!”

The man huffed and straightened his coat. “You’re right I’m sorry, that was harsh. It’s just your phrasing was a little over the top. “Help, I’m in distress!” Really Rachel?” The woman opened her mouth but he cut her off. “But that’s just my personal opinion. Maybe Curls here disagrees? He did run to your aid after all.”

The sharp powerful blue eyes were back on him, this time telling him to speak.

“The phrasing was a little weird,” said Blaine, the words escaping from him without his permission. But, seeing as he was suddenly able to talk, if not move, he added, “And Colin Firth isn’t dead. He’s just been doing a lot of directing work.”

The woman shook her head. “No, honey. In Kurt’s mind, Colin died when he chose to star in What A Girl Wants 2 instead of the Love Actually sequel.” She sighed and looked at the man, Kurt, who turned his chin away. “He can be very stubborn about these things.”

“I can be stubborn? Me?”

“Yes you. Now shh. If you haven’t noticed we actually caught one! My plan worked perfectly.” She moved closer in front of Blaine, leaning in to stare at his face. “And look how hot he is! Am I good or am I good?”

“Yes, Rachel, you did very well.” There was that condescending tone again, although this time it was infused with fondness. “I must say I prefer this method of takeaway over Santana’s system of “trolling for neck” in bars and clubs. Drunk people just don’t taste as nice.” 

Blaine would have blinked in surprise at his words if he could have moved anything but his mouth. Takeaway? Trolling for neck? Drunk people didn’t taste nice? What was happening? 

“What are you talk - ?”

“We’re vampires.”

“God, Kurt. You can’t just say that!” Rachel reprimanded. Thank you, Blaine thought, at least someone was taking this seriously. “We are recipients of a vampiric legacy that originated in the Middle East over three thousand years ago.” Oh. 

“It’s really more of an infection than a legacy. Think STI, but without the sex,” Kurt said in a conspiratorial tone. “At least for me it was. I’m still not sure about Rachel and Santana.”

“Hey now! You were the one hanging all over him that day. Santana and I were Turned together whereas you were the one taken behind the curtain.

“Him?” asked Blaine faintly.

“Our Sire,” explained Kurt. “He dressed as a sexy Santa to get our attention and then bit us all.” He turned back to Rachel. “And like you would have said no to that man if he’d invited you to a private party. Did you see his abs? He didn’t even need to use his telepathy on me.” Kurt sighed with the memory.

“Telepathy?” 

“Hmm? Oh it’s what I’m using on you now to stop you from moving. It’s handy but it took us a couple of months to learn how to do it.”

“Kurt’s the best at it. He just seems to have the knack.”

“Thank you!“

“You’re welcome.”

“And now you…eat people?”

Kurt cocked his head to the side. “In a manner of speaking. We feed off human blood.” 

“Warm human blood,” Rachel added. “The blood bank stuff just doesn’t work. It needs to be fresh.”

“Mmm. We think it’s all about how much life is in the blood. That’s why young blood is better than old blood.” 

Blaine blanched. “You mean you eat children?”

“No! What do you think we are - monsters?” Kurt paused and took in Blaine’s unmoving expression. “Don’t answer that." 

Rachel put her hand on Kurt’s arm and smiled at Blaine in what she must have thought to be a comforting manner: all teeth. “We are not the bad guys here! We are just victims of our own circumstances. What you see before you is a sorrowful tale of two talented young actors, cut down in their prime and prevented from living the lives they had so arduously planned out for themselves.”

Actors. That would explain her previous performance. It had been a little on the nose but she had gotten the point across. Repeatedly. And Blaine had fallen for it hook, line and sinker. Sam will be so disappointed in me. 

“Quit with the dramatic monologue, Rachel. We already lured him here, we don’t need to torture him too.” Hmm, kind, cute and possibly homicidal. Who knew I’d changed my type? thought Blaine. Still probably a step up from Sebastian. 

“Are you going to kill me?” His voice was surprisingly steady. Blaine’s fear, while still present, was dulled a little by their banter. They talked like an old married couple and reminded him of the kind of people he used to know in high school. 

“Only if you’re even more tasty than you look,” said Rachel batting her eyelashes at him. “I am feeling rather peckish.”

“Cut it out, Rachel,” snapped Kurt. “No we won’t kill you. We’ve learned enough by now to know when to stop. You will probably be knocked unconscious though, and you’ll wake up tomorrow with a massive headache, but otherwise you’ll be fine.”

“For what it’s worth I am sorry, my gallant knight. I will remember your bravery. We could have been great together,” Rachel said, clutching her hands to her chest and actually looking kind of distraught. Kurt rolled his eyes. “The next Buffy and Angel.”

“That metaphor is in no way applicable to this situation. Next time you decide to binge watch Buffy and call it “studying our history” I will steal your BluRays.”

“Santana won’t let you. She understands the importance of watching it just as much as I do.”

“She just likes the fact that Buffy ended up sleeping with a couple of vampires. It gives her hope.”

“Um…” Blaine said, not knowing if interrupting them was wise but there was another question he needed answered. “You said you’d knock me unconscious. Does that mean I’ll be lying unconscious in this alleyway all night?” 

Both Kurt and Rachel looked confused by the question. But then Kurt’s eyes widened and swept up and down his body. “Oh god, Rachel! We can’t do that to him. Look at what he’s wearing! That’s got to be a $4,000 suit! And it’s not even tacky.” 

Rachel bit her lip. “Could we perhaps strip him and then put the clothes in a plastic bag next to him?” 

Blaine’s eyes must have conveyed enough panic at that suggestion for her to say, “Or maybe we could mail you the clothes at a later date. You’d just need to give us your address or number – ”

“I think the part he doesn’t like about your plan is not the plastic bag but the leaving him mostly naked in a random alleyway overnight, Rachel.” Kurt looked to Blaine. “Is that right?” 

“Yes,” Blaine said, wanting to nod his head vigorously but unable to do so. “That’s it. Don’t do that.”

“Well crap. What are we going to do? I’m too hungry to try and find someone with a less fancy outfit to feed off of.” She turned her beady eyes on Blaine. “Do you have any badly dressed friends nearby that you could call?” 

“He doesn’t have his phone, Rach.” Kurt started pacing up and down. 

This could be good, thought Blaine. They sounded like they could be persuaded to let him go. He could try to convince them that the only real solution would be to find someone else or to leave it for another night.

But, his treacherous mind told him, that would mean someone else would get their blood sucked and left on the side of the road. Nightbird would never have let that happen. Batman would never let that happen. Blaine couldn’t let that happen. 

“What if,” Blaine said, bringing Kurt to a stop in front of him. “What if you drink from me but not as much as you usually do? Like not enough that I would fall unconscious.” 

Rachel looked sceptical. “I don’t know… I wasn’t lying about being hungry. I feel like I wouldn’t be able to stop drinking in time.”

Kurt sighed. “I may have an idea.” He shifted his eyes between the other two. “We could take him home with us. We could feed and then let him sleep on the couch until he’s recovered enough to go home.” 

Blaine’s instant reaction to that suggestion was Hell No! They might be relatively pleasant vampires but Blaine was not going to let them just drag him back to their lair and feed from him. He’d be completely powerless. What would stop them from just killing him then and there? Or from doing the Jedi mind trick again and making it so he physically couldn’t leave? He could be used as their beverage-on-tap for the rest of his life. 

But Rachel apparently thought differently. “Oh, Kurt! You’re a genius! This is perfect.” She clapped her hands in joy and then moved closer to Blaine, close enough to pat him on the head. “You’ll come home with us! Don’t worry it’s a really nice place and our couch is super comfy!” 

“But – but,” Blaine verbally flailed for a moment, trying to force his brain to think of a good enough excuse to convince them not to kidnap him. Unfortunately nothing came.

“Look,” said Kurt, his voice sounding surprisingly kind. “We really don’t have a choice here. We need to drink. Our bodies start shutting down if we don’t get our daily dose of fresh blood.” 

“It’s not pretty,” added Rachel, grimacing. “I was shaky for the rest of the week.”

“What’s your name?” Kurt asked suddenly, his striking blue eyes piercing into Blaine in a different way this time. A surge of warmth flew through Blaine’s body, travelling all the way down to his toes.

“Blaine Anderson.” 

Kurt smiled. It was a beautiful smile. “Blaine,” he repeated. “I know you don’t know us. And I know we may have brought you here under false pretences, and I know we are vampires who are planning to drink your blood… but we really aren’t bad people.”

Blaine stared into those eyes for another minute, taking note of the steadiness and honesty reflected in them. This could have been another mind trick but he didn’t think so. Despite the fact that neither Batman, nor Nightbird would ever do it, Blaine decided to take a leap of faith and put his trust in this beautiful otherworldly man, and his strangely endearing friend.

“Not monsters, right?” Blaine finally said, trying to convey his answer through his eyes. Kurt’s shoulders dropped and a more relaxed, goofy grin overtook his face. Beside him, Rachel let out a delighted, “Yay!” and clapped her hands once more.

Blaine’s eyes connected with Kurt’s and he felt his entire body unfreeze. The sudden change brought with it a short spell of vertigo that made him sway on the spot. Kurt’s arm was instantly there, holding him steady. Their met eyes and the strange warmth he felt last time happened again, this time accompanied by shivery tinglings of pleasure that spread throughout his body.

“What are you doing to me?” whispered Blaine, his eyes searching Kurt’s. This had to be another one of those Vampire powers.

Kurt leant in. “I am making sure you don’t fall over,” he whispered right back, a playful glint in his eyes. “You looked like you needed some help there.”

Deciding Kurt was either unaware of what he was doing, or he was a very good liar, Blaine put it out of his mind for the moment. “My hero,” he said.

From beside them, a small cough sounded. “Um. I’m still really hungry. Could we maybe take this inside?” Rachel looked at them both, a strange mix of impatience and smugness painting her face.

Clearing his throat, Kurt removed his hand from Blaine and stepped back, straightening his coat unnecessarily. “Of course. It has been a very long evening for all of us. We should go.” He turned to Blaine, an unfamiliar emotion flickering in his eyes. “Are you sure?” his voice deeper and yet somehow more vulnerable. “We won’t force you to do it.”

And despite the fact that he had been technically forcing him not ten minutes earlier, Blaine believed him. He was safe with them. He was safe with Kurt.

“I’m sure,” he said.

***

“Oh, that was good,” moaned Rachel, picking up a napkin from the coffee table and dabbing at her mouth. “He is delicious.”

Kurt, who was sitting on the couch facing them, the same place he had collapsed after he’d taken his share of Blaine’s blood, nodded his head. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the man. This human, this brave, trusting, selfless man who now lay spread out, unconscious on their couch. This man, who Kurt now felt beholden to, in a way he hadn’t with any of the other dozens of people he had fed off. Something about Blaine was different. He was special.

“Kurt!” Rachel said, her tone sharp enough to snap him out of his head and back into the present. “I was telling you I’m going to bed now.” Kurt managed to drag his eyes away from Blaine long enough to look at Rachel. Her smile was a little too knowing for comfort. “You should get to bed too. It’s getting late, the sun will be rising soon.”

Kurt nodded again, his eyes returning to the resting boy.

“He’ll be ok, Kurt. We’ll probably be awake before him and then we can thank him properly and send him on his way.” Kurt’s heart clenched painfully at the thought of goodbye.

Rachel stood and walked over to him. Placing her hand gently on his shoulder and forcing him to meet her eyes. “There are probably people who are missing him. You have to let him go.“

Another nod.

She left, giving one last parting squeeze to his shoulder.

Kurt, without really registering the movement, found himself kneeling on the carpet next to the couch. His hand reaching out to touch the warm, tanned skin, it’s colour in stark contrast to the pure white of his own. They were so different. Sun and Moon. Hot and cold. Alive and dead.

And yet Kurt found himself wishing with all his might for Blaine to open his gorgeous hazel eyes once more. He just wanted to see if that same sensation of shivery warm pleasure would pass through him like it had in the alleyway.

For a second there, whilst meeting the eyes of someone who should have been nothing more than his latest meal, Kurt had felt almost… alive.


End file.
